You and Me
by Suomalainen-Sisu
Summary: The infection spread and spread and people died. Until there was just you and me left. And we fought so hard to survive. But how can less than an hour rip us apart so easily? Zombie fic, Character Death.


**This is heavy inspired and based around the Dead Island game trailer, but you don't need to have seen it to understand the story. **

**Warnings: Blood and gore, Zombies, Violence, Character Death**

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor the Dead Island Trailer. **

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><p>Run! Goddammit! RUN FASTER!<p>

My mind screams as I push my body to the extreme. My legs ache and threaten to collapse beneath me, but I keep running. I have to run. To get away from them.

Because the growling and yelps of horror are getting closer. Closer to me.

I turn the corner and almost sigh in relief. There! Our room. Finding a new surge of strength I race for the door.

I risk a glance behind me and a sea of distorted faces stares back, emotionless and dead. The floor beneath me is slippery and the squeaks of shoes rubbing harshly against it sends shivers down my spine. Mainly because it's a constant reminder that they're still there. Right behind me. Running, just like I am. But instead of the hunted, they're the hunters. And guess who the prey is.

I twirl back round and rush towards the door.

Only a few more feet. Only a few more feet. Only a few more -.

A cold hand wraps around my thigh, I shudder in fear and soon I'm getting pulled down onto the grimy floor, but the pain barely registers on my bruised knees and palms. Instead my body jerks pathetically as I try to loosen the person's – no, it's not a person anymore. It's not that homophobic hotel clerk from before, it just looks like him. It's a thing, trapped inside a human body. Loosen the _thing's _grip.

But honestly, I don't have time to be thinking of this. And the yells and shrieks certainly aren't going away. In fact, they're getting closer. I sob, terrified to the bone, my finger nails scratch uselessly yet frantically at the floor as I try to pull away. But it's no use. The creature's insanely strong, and I let out a small gasp of pain as his grip tightens.

I give a final flail of my arms as I try to pull away. A final gritting of my teeth in effort. A final fear filled shaky breath. And a final word, "B-Blaine -!" releases from my dry lips.

And then I stop moving altogether.

My body freezes but my mouth continues to work and from within it I let out a bloodcurdling scream. It hurts. It hurts so much! Make it stop please! But the pain doesn't stop, and the teeth ripping at the flesh of my calf doesn't stop either.

The smell of my own blood makes me nauseous and I feel my head begin to drop. Blotches of black appear in my vision and I blink foolishly, trying to make them disappear. The pain no longer registers, and instead everything feels numb.

Get up! Get up Kurt! I urge myself but soon my outstretched arms drop heavily to the ground and my strength bleeds away.

This can't be the end. It can't be! Not yet! My mind screams at me to get up but my body protests and that's the moment when I truly start believing that this _is _the end. Am I going to die here on this very spot in this dark hotel corridor? Am I going to be alone? Are you going to survive?

My skin goes cold and I'm almost completely unaware of my surroundings as a nearby door swings open, light floods the hallway, and a figure rushes out. I don't hear the swing of an axe impacting with disfigured faces. Or the livid roar that rips from the enraged man's throat as he stands alone facing an army of them.

I'm not even sure how much time passed. A few seconds perhaps. A minute even. But soon the weight above me disappears, and an infected body hits the floor beside me.

And then you're there. Kneeling beside me, crying as you reach for me. My face is bruised and caked in blood and dirt, but I try to muster the strength to smile anyway. You try to smile back but your tears are falling too fast and your lips tremble. Your arms are now draped around my waist and I try to cling weakly to your shirt as you lift me.

"B-Blaine." I try once more and then my head's dropping onto your shoulder and my eyes are closing.

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><p>I rush to you. Be okay. Please be okay, I beg. As I kneel down and wrap my arms around your slim body. Tears mask my vision but I can still see you going pale, paler than normal. And your body feels cold too. Your eyes are unfocused and are beginning to close as I pick you up but you still try to grasp at my shirt. Your body is light. Way too light. You mumble something inaudible into my chest and then your eyes close and my heart clenches as I rush back through the door and slam it shut, shutting out those monsters that are wailing miserably in the corridor.<p>

The door begins to groan under the force of rotten bodies being flung at it, but I ignore it. Because there's only one thing on my mind right now and that's you Kurt.

I'm not too late. I'm not too late. Please don't let me have been too late Kurt.

Placing you on the bed, I really want to join you. To hold you tight just one more time and whisper comforting words in your ear. But I can't. So instead I run my fingers through your hair a final time and sigh. A kiss to your chapped lips and a whispered, "Kurt," and then I turn around to face them.

I watch in despair as the door groans a final time and collapses. The room instantly floods with flailing limbs, snarls and wails. I raise my shaking arms slowly, gripping the axe tightly in my sweaty hands.

And then I start swinging madly.

Blood splatters across the room and bodies crumple to the floor as more keep coming. My shirt is soaked, my hands are covered and a drop of blood drips from my brow.

I'm exhausted. Utterly exhausted, but I keep going. I keep swinging, and more keep coming.

Two more minutes pass. Then another. And another. Until I'm breathing erratically and my hands are shaking, both from fear and fatigue. Sweat drips but I don't wipe it away. My knees wobble unsteadily, but I remain standing. And you remain unmoving on the bed, and I remain guarding you. Fighting, just for you. Only for you.

Another roar. Another swing. Another dropping body. The cycle repeats itself. Over and over and over and over.

I can do this. I can do this. I can -.

But suddenly there's a strong force clinging to my back. It's you. But at the same time, it's not you. You're one of them now. You growl and snarl just like them. And you feel like them too. Dead. So as your teeth tear into my shoulder with no remorse, a sob wrecks through my body. Hot breath hit my ear and my own blood drips down my chest and onto the floor, mixing with blood already there and creating horrid patterns as I stumble around.

I want to stop. I really want to stop. But I can't. Because I know you'd want me to keep fighting. Even when I've lost you.

We're close to the glass window. Really close. Several floors up and I can't believe I'm even thinking of what's passing through my mind.

But I have no choice.

So I let out an enraged yell and arch my back forcefully. You fall off and stumble through the weak glass. For a second I swear your face changes into a shocked expression, but then it's gone and a terrifying snarl appears.

But then you're falling. Falling and falling and falling.

Falling.

I spin back around to face the army of infected but still wince as a heavy thudding noise fills my ears.

But I don't turn round. Mainly because the onslaught hasn't stopped and maybe partially because I don't want to. I don't want to see your body, broken and small, lying many feet below me. I don't want to turn round. So I don't.

Instead I hurl myself at the nearest monster. He shrieks as my axe collides with his rotten flesh and falls to the ground.

Sweat is now mixing with blood and my wound is stinging. I keep going. But then slowly I notice my hits slowing, weakening, before stopping altogether as my hands fall to my sides and I struggle to take in a breath.

Backing against the glass, I slide down. There're too many, and we've lost already because I've lost you. This isn't the time or place for tears, but I can't help myself and soon they're pouring down my cheeks and I'm sobbing into my knees.

And as I sit there, with my shaking hands clutching my drawn up knees, I finally look out of the window, past my reflection – a bloody, tear streaked and snotty face, and down at the ground.

You're lying there, many feet below. Arm twisted at an awkward angle, but you look so young, so innocent and…unmoving. And from this distance, I'm sure my eyes must be deceiving me, but I swear you look almost human, so peaceful.

Looking up, I'm faced with a beautiful evening, the vibrant rays of light glimmer in breath-taking ways and they almost seem happy. A mix of reds and yellows and purples and oranges. A sight I saw almost every day but never fully appreciated until my last.

I smile faintly. And I don't even know why. Can you believe it?

Less than an hour. That's all it took to tear us apart. To rip you away from me.

I sigh and glance up. They're all still there. Trapping me in this corner. Snarling and grimacing. Faces, pale and rotten. Skin, flaky and torn. Bodies, disfigured and covered in dirt and blood.

I take a deep breath. Close my eyes. Still my trembling hands and wait as they come closer.

I know neither of us believe in it and you'd laugh at me for sure if I ever got the chance to tell you.

But.

I really hope I see you in heaven Kurt Hummel.


End file.
